


I Am Not a Robot

by graysonofgotham (cruel_oath)



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo (2019) [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Hugs, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruel_oath/pseuds/graysonofgotham
Summary: Since the day he could hold a sword, Damian was expected to hold his own in any fight, regardless of circumstances. Mother tested him frequently, sending assassins from all over the world to see if he could handle opponents bigger, faster, and stronger than him. It was a natural part of life in their line of work, and at the time, Damian understood that all Mother ever wanted was for him to be the best.For him to be the best, affection had to be left behind. The day Grandfather decided Damian would be the one to inherit his empire was the day Mother stopped holding him.





	I Am Not a Robot

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very fluffy way to start my [Bad Things Happen Bingo](https://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com/) card. I can't promise future installments will end happily.

For Damian, physical contact was to be perceived as a threat.

Since the day he could hold a sword, Damian was expected to hold his own in any fight, regardless of circumstances. Mother tested him frequently, sending assassins from all over the world to see if he could handle opponents bigger, faster, and stronger than him. It was a natural part of life in their line of work, and at the time, Damian understood that all Mother ever wanted was for him to be the best.

For him to be the best, affection had to be left behind. The day Grandfather decided Damian would be the one to inherit his empire was the day Mother stopped holding him.

(Damian has no memory of that day. All of his early memories were of sword fights and bone-white bandages, of harsh words and even harsher punishments.)

A full decade of his life had been spent fending off attacks, both tests and legitimate threats. At ten years old, Damian al Ghul could kill a man in more ways than even Deathstroke the Terminator could think of. He could take the most atrocious of torture without shedding a single tear. He could defeat opponents ten times his size with the same ease as breathing.

Damian Wayne didn’t need to worry about assassins being sent his way to test his abilities in Wayne Manor. Grayson never once tried to strike him outside of sparring, not even when Damian’s mistakes lead to an innocent getting hurt (or worse). Even his lectures had a sort of underlying gentleness, much like Ravi, his former caretaker.

It had taken him months to let his guard down and even longer to grow comfortable with physical contact. He still struggles to not smash Grayson’s teeth in when he feels his hand land on his shoulder, but to Grayson’s credit, he’s made a clear effort to not push Damian’s buttons.

And yet, in spite of the fact that he detests physical contact, he can’t help but feel bitter when Grayson ruffles Drake’s hair.

Bitter isn’t exactly the right word―that insinuates that he’s jealous of Drake, and he’s _not._ There’s _something_ there, but Damian can’t think of _what_ it’s supposed to be. It’s not quite as potent as _rage,_ and it isn’t soul-sucking enough to be _sadness._ If anything, it feels more like there’s something he’s lacking. Some sort of void, one that ravenously consumes affection.

He shouldn’t _care_ about what Grayson has to say or how Grayson feels. Damian knows that he’s the best Robin to have existed, yet every word of praise Grayson throws his way feels like a scrap of meat handed to a half-starved dog. Now, it doesn’t feel like enough.

“Everything okay, Damian?” Grayson asks, his voice cutting through the noise in his head. “You’ve been quiet tonight… well, quieter than usual.”

“I am fine, Grayson,” Damian huffs, peeling off his domino mask. He made an effort to sound _annoyed,_ but when the words came out, they simply sounded… _tired._

“Damian, we’ve been partners long enough for me to know when you’re not telling me the truth.” Grayson pulls off the cape and cowl, throwing them onto the chair in front of the Batcomputer before approaching Damian. He gets down to the child’s level, a genuinely concerned expression on his face. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you really don’t want to, but you should at least admit when something’s bothering you.”

The assassin that still resides in Damian’s mind knows Grayson makes a good point―emotions are a distraction, and distractions could get even the most experienced of assassins killed―but Grayson isn’t talking to Damian al Ghul.

He’s talking to Damian Wayne.

This isn’t about the crusade Father started. This is Grayson looking after his partner because that’s what partners are supposed to do.

“What if I am unsure of what is wrong?” Damian asks. It’s not a total lie― he’s not sure _what_ is making him feel like the part of a Hallmark movie where all hope seems lost, nor is he able to describe the feeling with words.

Grayson gives Damian a reassuring smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. “How about this―let’s get changed, then we’ll see if we can figure it out over a cup of hot cocoa and some cookies.”

Ten minutes later, they’re up in the penthouse, changed into their pajamas and sitting on one of the nice leather couches with a hot cocoa in hand and a plate of cookies on the coffee table in front of them. Grayson waits until Alfred is out of earshot before saying anything. “So, about that thing that’s bothering you―do you think it’s something life-threatening? Something related to Pyg or Flamingo?”

Damian shakes his head. “It has nothing to do with being Robin.”

“Then maybe it’s something related to your parents? I mean, since we started doing the dynamic duo thing, we’ve dealt with one disaster after another.” Grayson snatches a cookie off the plate. “Neither of us really had a chance to properly grieve your father’s death, and I know what happened between you and your mother was… difficult, to put it lightly.”

Damian stares down at his cocoa. “I do not think so. I am upset that Father is gone and that Mother would sooner see me dead than support my choices, but I have accepted it. Besides, Mother always seemed to keep me at arm’s length, and Father… I do not think he really wanted me around.”

“I don’t think that’s the case, Damian,” Grayson says. “He cared about you―he loved you. He wanted to help you.”

Damian snorts. “He had an interesting way of showing it.”

“Your dad always was an emotionally constipated asshole―don’t tell Alfred I said that.” Grayson finishes his cookie before going for another one. “Affection of any sort really wasn’t his biggest strength. That was kinda my thing.”

“So I have noticed.”

Damian’s eyes widened. He didn’t mean for that to sound so bitter.

Grayson’s expression changes to one of realization, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s probably for the best, because Damian suddenly isn’t able to keep his mouth shut.

“You are so affectionate towards everyone―Drake, Cain, Gordon, hell, even Todd―but with me, it’s different.” Damian looks away from Grayson. “You are not cold like Mother, nor are you distant like Father, but it feels like… when I see you treat them with such affection, I…”

“You feel left out,” Dick offers, his tone gentle.

“Yes… I believe so,” Damian mumbles.

He’s not quite sure what he expects Grayson to do next―maybe ruffle his hair or give him a pat on the shoulder, but instead he finds himself wrapped up in the man’s arms. Grayson’s hold on him is loose, giving him an opportunity to escape if he decides he doesn’t want it, but after a moment, Damian finds himself leaning into the embrace. He rests his head on Grayson’s shoulder, and for the first time, it feels like this might be enough to fill the void inside him.

“Figured you weren’t too fond of physical contact,” Grayson says. “Sorry, kiddo. If I had known―”

“Be silent, Richard,” Damian says. “You are ruining the moment.”

Grayson snorts, tightening his hold on Damian. “Brat,” he murmurs fondly.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>    
> 
> 
>   
> If any of the above prompts interest you, feel free to send one my way over on [Tumblr.](https://disasterbigrayson.tumblr.com/owo) **I'd really prefer you not post prompts in the comments, please!**  
>  **Rules:**
> 
>   * Prompts are first-come, first serve. [You might want to check here to see if the prompt you wanted has already been requested.](https://disasterbigrayson.tumblr.com/bth)
>   * I'm only doing fills for DC fandoms; fills for Titans, Young Justice, and the Bat-Family have a higher chance of getting completed faster.
>   * All I need is a character and a prompt. If you feel so inclined, you can specify which universe, or if you want a specific plot point or ship included.
>   * Prompts requesting incest (including ships between any of the batboys) will be ignored.
>   * ONE PER PERSON.
> 



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